


Affectionate

by paperscribe



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Drunkenness, Fluff, M/M, Public Display of Affection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-10 08:14:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2017581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperscribe/pseuds/paperscribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a good party, and everyone is drinking a bit more than he should, Robbie included.  Written for the Lewis Summer Challenge 2014.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Affectionate

It's a good party, and everyone is drinking a bit more than he should, Robbie included. After a wander to the lavatory, he plops himself back down beside James.

James turns to Robbie and smiles. "Hello, you."

"Hello," Robbie says. Never mind that they greeted each other when they arrived at the party and sat next to each other. When someone says hello, you say hello back. It's politeness. And Robbie is very polite.

James makes a sound that either is a soft hum or closed-mouth laughter, and he reaches out to touch Robbie's cheek. "You've got a beard coming in."

Robbie lifts a hand to check the other side of his face…yes, he's got a beard coming in on that side too. "It's late. Didn't shave again before I came out tonight."

"No, I'm not complaining. I like it." James lets his fingers stray idly across Robbie's face, and Robbie leans into the touch.

"You've got gentle hands," Robbie murmurs, forgetting what they were talking about just a moment ago.

James makes that amused humming sound again. "I've got gentle everything."

Robbie opens his eyes and tries to make sense of that comment, but it's beyond his capacity right now. He's not sure if it's an innuendo or just James being James. Either is a distinct possibility.

"I like you a bit scruffy," James says. "You look like…" He thinks a moment. "…the dedicated private detective whose personal life is a mess and who lives in his office and eats nothing but pasta. A bit Humphrey Bogart."

Robbie blinks. "Humphrey Bogart? Me?"

James looks at him searchingly. "Why not?"

"Dunno," Robbie says. "Doesn't seem much like me, does it?"

"Of course it does," James says. "You do solve mysteries. You are a bit married to the work. And pardon me for saying so, but your taste in food in general is entirely revolting."

That makes Robbie laugh. James would think that. "Don't think they had microwaves in Bogart films, did they? Couldn't have my usual frozen dinners."

James has to consider that for a moment. "No. I think they didn't. But they could've used ovens."

"Who are you, anyway?" Robbie asks.

James frowns at him. "I'm James."

Robbie shakes his head. "No. I mean in the Bogart film. I'm the seasoned detective with no life of his own. Who are you?"

"That depends," James says, fingers still gliding lightly over Robbie's cheek. "I could be some sort of…would it be _homme fatal_ , do you think? I couldn't be a _femme fatale_ because I'm not a _femme_."

"What, luring me into your web of deceit to your own ends?" Robbie asks. The thought is a bit…erm…well, let's just say he's finding it interesting and leave potential physiological reactions out of it.

"Or," James continues, "I could be someone who seems that way, but my glamorous exterior hides a secret heart of gold."

"Mm," Robbie agrees. "Like that one better." He touches James's hand with his own. "Do we end up together? At the end of the film?"

James smiles. "Of course we do."

Robbie nods. He finds that outcome satisfying in a way he can't describe right now. And somehow his fingers have got intertwined with James's. He can't remember exactly how; if he had to guess, he'd say he did it, but there's really no way of knowing.

"You solve the mystery and rescue me from whoever it is who's been trying to make me the scapegoat for their crimes," James says, "and at the end, the only mystery left for me is you."

Robbie snorts. "Never saw meself as a man of mystery."

"You are one, though," James says. "To me, anyway."

Robbie turns to look James in the eye, which isn't easy to do with James's face so very close to his. "What about me is a mystery exactly?"

James's fingertip hovers at the corner of Robbie's lips as he says, "Your mouth."

Robbie frowns. "My mouth?"

James nods. "I wonder what it tastes like."

Their faces are inches apart now. Robbie can feel James's breath on his face, and he wants to lean forward just that little bit and close the distance between them.

"Oh," Robbie whispers. "I suppose…"

When he doesn't finish right away, James prompts him. "You suppose?"

"I suppose you'd better try it then," Robbie says. "Solving your mystery."

James gives Robbie a lazy smile that's dead sexy before leaning in, eyes closing as his lips meet Robbie's own. Robbie doesn't even wait for the brush of James's tongue against his lips; he parts his lips to James, eyes closing as James's tongue enters his mouth so gently. Robbie feels suddenly hot all over. James tastes like alcohol and cigarettes and somehow neither of those things seems wrong or unwanted right now.

Robbie closes his eyes and tries to memorise the feel of James kissing him.

After a moment, James pulls back. "Ah," he says softly.

Robbie opens his eyes. "What's the verdict?"

James smiles at him. "Mainly beer tonight," he says.

Robbie nods. "Makes sense."

"Mm-hmm," James agrees, leaning in to kiss Robbie more gently.

"Second try?" Robbie asks.

"No," James says. "That one I gave you because I wanted to."

"Well, don't stop on my account," Robbie says.

James lets out a pleased little giggle and brushes a series of soft kisses across Robbie's face. They are gentle and sweet and perfect, and Robbie loves every single one of them as much as the last.

"James?" Robbie murmurs. 

"Hmm?" James responds mid-kiss.

"Why have we never done this before?"

James stops and pulls back, looking at Robbie. "I didn't know you wanted to."

Robbie lifts a hand to touch James's cheek. James doesn't have as much of a beard coming in as Robbie, but there's still a pleasant little hint of raspyness to James's skin.

"I'd have to be daft not to want to," Robbie says quietly. He strokes James's cheek with the pad of his thumb. "Kiss us again?"

"Any time you like," James whispers.

Robbie likes this time. And so, it seems, does James.


End file.
